


wild ride

by paandachicken



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bikerbar, Enforcer Geralt, Fist Fight, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Granddaughter Ciri, M/M, Multi, President Vesemir, SaA Lambert, Student Ciri, Student Jaskier, VP Eskel, Vice President Eskel, jaskier.exe stopped working
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paandachicken/pseuds/paandachicken
Summary: When Ciri asks her friend Jaskier to work a night at the bar in her dads clubhouse, because he bought them tickets to a festival, he has no idea why she said he wouldn't be disappointed. Seeing Geralt for the first time, he is more than pleased.Also: jaskier.exe stopped working
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, jaskier - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	wild ride

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, english is not my first language.   
> Feedback is much appreciated.
> 
> Biggest thanks to my beta sagahaft <3

Jaskier couldn’ t exactly remember when he first got involved with Ciri. It must have been about a year ago, when she started her college education and just sat down next to him on the warm gras where he was strumming his guitar and humming the melody which was stuck in his head for a while.   
The ashen haired girl, or young woman if you will, stuck around ever since. The music that had first drawn her to him was just one thing they bonded over. Their terrible sense of humor, instagram memes and aesthetics just strengthened their friendship.   
If this even was a friendship at all.

Jaskier has never been to Ciris home and even if she came by his dorm every now and then, it would fade to a fond memory once he moved back home. In 258 days Jaskier would hopefully graduate with his Master of Musical Arts and the quirky girl would have another few years specializing in her Social Science Studies. 

But all this could change this night. Without knocking on his door, the young lady simply marched in his room, threw her beaten leather jacket on his bed and followed suit, groaning loudly as she flopped down.  
Resting his palm over the strings of his well loved guitar to mute the song he had been playing, Jaskier pushed himself away from the window on his office chair and turned around.  
Ciri lay sprawled on the bed, her actually pretty long hair in a low messy bun with lots of stray strands framing her face and a frown in her face.   
“Stop that, i’ve told you two million times, frowning makes you age faster!” the musician scolded, rested the guitar on his lap once he placed his heels on the edge of his bed.   
“What's wrong, Ciri?” He could not recall her having any important exams that she could have messed up, nor could he remember anything similar. 

“I have to work tonight.” she groaned again, turning to face the almost graduated men while she finally started to explain. He couldn't recall her talking of a job ever before.   
“Is your dad forcing you to have a job? On the weekends?” While Jaskier desperately tried to get some small gigs in local student bars or pubs, having a student that took almost every class possible and only had weekends off. Working a job on the weekend seemed highly unreasonable to him. On the other side..   
“Nah.” Ciri waved her hand through the air and rolled her eyes at his assumption.   
“But there is a party at the clubhouse tonight and i made this stupid deal with him.” He didn't need to ask, as his raised brow was question enough for Ciri to continue her little story.   
“Nothing in life is free. I am paying for your college and a little work never hurt nobody.” she mimicked what Jaskier would guess was her fathers words. “So… he got me two tickets to the Belleteyn Festival we wanted to go to in spring.” “Two?” “Yes. And maybe I told him that you would also work the bar with me tonight.”   
There was a smirk on her face that told Jaskier three things. First, he had no choice but work the bar with her tonight in that ominous clubhouse; second, she knew he couldn't afford the ticket to this giant festival when he graduated and had to get a place of his own that was not a dorm room; and third, that she knew that he knew the first two things. 

“Let me summarize what you just said, Ciri. You got both of us tickets for the Belleteyn next spring and all we have to do is work the bar at your dads clubhouse tonight?” “Yep.” She seemed way too pleased with herself, smiling way too satisfied now.   
Now it was Jaskiers turn to frown, rolling his eyes when he felt her moving from the bed. As he turned around with his chair again, she already opened his closet full of colorful shirts and several other exciting clothing, moving hangers from left to right and back again.   
Just as she did when she hung around before he headed to a date or casual hook up, helping him choose a cool outfit. Was that not a little much for just working the bar?  
“Any reason you’re choosing my clothes now?” he asked, getting up to have a better look at that kind of outfit she tried to arrange.  
“Yep. Trust me - you won't be disappointed, even if we work tonight!” 

It turned out to be the most simple and muted outfit Jaskier had worn in the past few years. Some nice, dark gray jeans with his favourite leather boots and a simple black shirt with a not too deep v-neck that exposed part of his broad chest.   
“I’ll pick you up around 7, I'll text you when I am here.” 

When Ciri texted him she was there just as promised, he got up, took his own red leather jacket to at least accentuate his outfit a little bit. Even if his friend usually took public transport he found himself sliding into the passenger seat of a very well kept, shiny black muscle car with dark grey leather seats and some rock blasting from the cassette deck.   
“Is this your car?” he asked, pulling the seat belt over his chest and watching Ciri change gears and get going. Her dad was a mechanic after all. So why was he even surprised that she was able to drive with a stick shift.   
“It's my uncles. I had to pick up some stuff from the store before, so he gave me his keys.” she said, so proud that Jaskier assumed that it was a hard earned privilege to drive such a beautiful car. A? chrome skorpion mounted on the hood reflected the sunset just enough to justify both of them still wearing their sunglasses.

She parked the car just next to a flat roofed one story building with a big lot in the front and a smaller one in the back. By the sign over the front porch of this place, he assumed this to be the clubhouse. She took the keys from the engine, killing the music and grinning, he now was sure. It was the clubhouse.  
“Welcome to Kaer Morhen.” she said as she opened the trunk and gestured for Jaskier to grab one of several crates, filled with meat, some bowls that contained what could have been salads or similar side dishes and sauces, as well as some stray bottles of wine and hard liquor.

He followed her lead, carried the heavier looking crate inside and couldn't help but take a deep breath as they entered the simply horrible lighted storage room.   
“Just stack ‘em over there. The guys will take care of the food themselves, we're just gonna put the sides and stuff out.”   
It smelled like a storage unit in here. A mix of dust and cleaning supplies, now met with the warm air from outside. When the tall lady opened a door and flipped a switch he could see what was actually meant to be the clubhouse. 

The door they entered through led them right behind the bar, which extended almost across the whole width of the room, leaving just a gap that was used as entrance to the bar and storage on the far left side. On the wall there was a well stocked collection of alcohol, different types and brands not exactly sorted. Just below the bottles was an unholy amount of glasses of several sizes and shapes, everything from wine glasses that he easily recognized, over shot glasses and tumblers that he assumed to be for whisky and other drinks on the rocks.   
“Don’t worry about which glasses to choose. Wine for wine, shots for shots, any tall glass for mixed drinks and the small ones for straight up liquor.” She explained, moving around as if she was here every day.   
Probably she was, matter of fact her dad seemed to be here often. As well as her uncle, maybe.

Behind, depending on which side of the counter you were, stretched a big room, scattered with random chairs, tables, couches and even some cozy looking leather armchairs. There were markers on the floor that he assumed to be for darts and a pool table. The walls were decorated with several things, from posters of nude women on motorcycles to framed pictures and beaten up license plates. It's pretty much just like the stuff you would know from those cliche biker gang documentaries on late night television. 

“C’mon Jaskier. Grab some of the bowls and put them on that table, I’ll get the rest.”   
Said and done. He took his time arranging the dishes and sauces to look like a decent buffet, spoons and napkins that he retrieved from the storage neatly stacked to be used. Ciri had the front door unlocked, set up a few chairs outside on the porch and even turned on some weather beaten string lights to almost give a romantic flair to the porch.   
She turned on the music, a mix of classic rock and metal songs that played just loud enough to be heard over conversation not forcing one to scream over the bar.

They treated themselves with some beer and waited. 

It didn't take long for the club house to fill up with several men and women wearing lots and lots of black and leather, boots and silver jewelry. There were only very few gold rings on some fingers, most of these men had a lady at their side or at least arrived in her company. The parking lot in the front slowly had filled with a mix of random cars and shiny motorcycles which were parked neatly in the designated places, leaving certain slots unoccupied what seemed to Jaskier to be some peoples preferred parking spots. 

Now he knew that he would not be disappointed with working the bar tonight. Every drink was on the house and there was no money involved at all, which also meant no tips, but the view was worth it. Ciri knew him a little too well it seemed, as she was right. He liked almost everything he saw.   
Her elbow met his ribcage and made him grunt as she gestured to the door where he could see three of the empty spots being taken by bikes. Each of them wore a black leather jacket with a wolf emblem that he had seen several times tonight. Probably their branding or what not. It seemed to be important to this particular club.   
“Tall one is my dad. Granddad on the left, Uncle on the right.” she explained. As they had nothing better to do than drying some of the already cleaned classes, Jaskier could just watch the disaster coming at him. 

Three men entered the club and were greeted by everyone, getting strong claps on their shoulders, being pulled in for a hug or someone shouting something that the musicians fine ears could not pick up over the rock still blaring from the speakers.   
The oldest of the trio was first to arrive at the bar, causing Ciri to leave the musician alone by rounding the counter to greet him.

Suddenly she seemed to be playing something like the nice little girl her granddad seemed to imagine, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, kissing him on the weathered cheek and smiling bright.   
She even had the audacity to move further away, to the brown haired men who had entered. Her uncle.   
Simple to put one and one together as she handed him the car keys and pointed to the back, while he had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, not facing the bar. 

“Jaskier, I assume?”   
He almost dropped the glas when a raspy voice interrupted his observation of the traitorous friend that left him behind, turning to face another man with ashen, almost white hair, and a stern look on his face. That's him. That guy was Ciris Dad.

“Y-yes?” since when was his voice that high pitched? He cleared his throat, placed his hands on the counter before him and tried to play it cool, leaning forward to the stranger.  
“What can I get you, good sir?” Good sir. By Meliteles tits, what was wrong with him? The smirk on the older ones face, Ciris grand dad, did not help. Not at all!  
“I am Geralt.” Ciris Dad introduced himself, clearly not too fazed by his choice of words, calling him a good sir.   
“Good to see that Ciri was serious when she said you would be glad to help out tonight. Pass me two of the keadwenien Ales and one of the dark Cintra ones.”   
“S- Sure.” And when did he start to stutter? Jaskier bent down, grabbing two of the long necked bottles from one of the cooled drawers and turned around to fetch the third one. Geralt already had helped himself in twisting the caps open, passing one of the Ales to the men who seemed to be his father then. 

Geralt winked at Jaskier, with his precious caramel colored eyes as he turned around to deliver the bottle of dark Cintra beer to the other guy, who was still talking to Ciri. Jaskier could feel the blood rush to his ears, making him blush in a shade of pink that he usually didn't turn. Good that the bar was so badly lit that no one would notice. No one but Ciri, who got chased back to the bar with a comment from her father.   
“You can't just leave me here, Ciri! Do you have any fucking idea how-” Jaskier started as she strut back behind the bar, smiling knowingly.

“How hot my dad is? Tell me about it, Jaskier.” She leaned on the counter, crossing her arms in front of the old T-Shirt she had tied into a crop top. “Told you, you would like it here. It's a quiet nice view -”   
Was she fucking serious? Knowing full well that Jaskier was a single music student who was about to move away in less a year, exposing him to lots of hot men and especially her dad and..   
“Just think of the tickets, Jassie. They are already paid for. Just tonight. You don’t have to come back - but you could.” She winked. Just as her dad. Fuck. 

Somewhere between 11 pm and 1 am Jaskier lost track of time completely. There had been people coming and going, ordering the same drink as before or asking him for a certain mix that he had to make up as he went, laughter and the constant chatter of senseless conversations filled the air just enough to make him feel at ease and enjoy his work. 

“Fuck you, Geralt!” The raised voice did not only catch Jaskiers attention, but had several people turn their heads to see what was going on.  
The white haired Dilf, Jaskier assigned Geralt this trait within the first hour he was in the clubhouse, stood from his chair and replied something quiet to make it out from where Jaskier stood.   
“Oh no.” Ciri rested her forehead on her arms just on top of the counter, probably knowing what was about to happen.

The other guy was a little shorter than Geralt, wore a dark green Tee that gave Jaskier a nice view on his physique, which he assumed was just a little broader than his favoured Biker in the Room. 

Everything happened a little bit too fast, but Jaskier was glad not to be in the middle of the room where the dark haired guy with a obviously receding hairline and a scruffy beard threw himself at the taller one. Geralt dodged the punch, ducked just enough to ram his shoulder right in the other ones ribcage and push him back. When he straightened up again, Geralt had his fists lifted to get some cover, as the other one caught himself and took a similar stance. There was not much of that circeling that happened in a badly scripted movie, but a quick exchange of some punches, mixed with grunting and the shuffling of feet, as everyone tried to move out of the way. Geralt wrapped his arm around the other ones neck and was about to take him in a chokehold, when the other one kicked his legs.  
With a thud both of them hit the ground and started rolling over the wooden floor, throwing punches and grunting. 

“Lambert! Geralt! Get off each other!” It was the oldest shouting as he and the brown haired one rushed inside from their quiet conversation on the porch just straight into a fist fight.   
“Are you deaf, idiot?” barked Eskel, as Jaskier learned just a few hours ago, wrapping his arm around Geralts waist and pulling him back, placing his boot on the other ones Chest to push him down. Another guy, with a short buzz cut and lots of tattoos covering his forearms had dropped on his knees and grabbed Lambers wrists, pinning him down just long enough so that the brawling men could be seperated. Eskel held his brother back, his fingers dug in the leather of Geralts jacket as Vesemir blocked the view for Jaskier and everyone else as he towered over Lambert.

“Chill, he is a prick.” grunted Eskel, still pushing Geralt until the tall one startet to move backwards until they reached the bar.   
“Hey, we need some ice here.” 

Where the hell was Ciri? Jaskier jerked his head around, looking at Ciris Uncle close up the first time, staring in a distorted snarl, thanks to some nasty looking scars that ran from above his brow down to his chin, covering pretty much the whole right side of his face.   
“Stop staring, pass me some fucking ice, Kid!” he repeated, this time with a more demanding tone. Behind Eskel he located Ciri, handing a towel which he also assumed to be wrapped around some ice cubes to the other fighter.   
Quickly Jaskier grabbed one of the clean kitchen towels and dumped a whole glass of ice cubes on it, twisted the cloth together and held it out to the disfigured biker.   
Eskel just passed it on to Geralt, directing his hand to his temple to cool a well placed hit.   
“Stay here.” It was an order, not a request, that Geralt obeyed without complaining. 

As Eskel moved over to the oldest, Vesemir, Jaskier dared to look at Geralt a little closer. The eyes were still pinned on the back of Vesemir, as if he could stare right through him to his opponent.   
Jaskier didn't dare to ask, but hell - that escalated quickly. 

“My uncle is driving us home. Do you want to sleep over tonight or shall we drop you off somewhere?” Again, it was Ciri who pulled Jaskier from his thoughts, taking a sponge and wiping down the counter careless about the fact that it wasn’t even dirty. But she offered him to stay at her place. Where she lived. With her dad!   
Jaskier weighed the options in his head, between just taking the offer and getting a ride to Ciris place, a few hours of sleep and then taking her usual route to campus or getting off her uncles car somewhere close to the next bus stop hoping that he would get home before dawn.

“If it's no problem for you, I gladly take that offer.” Nobody seemed to care that they left the bar after tidying up a little. Eskel and Geralt moved behind the bar and they left through the storage, stepping outside and getting in Eskels Car. 

Ciris Uncle turned the music down a little, but nobody dared to talk. Geralt seemed to brood over something, brows furred and staring at the street whilst Ciri was staring at her phone next to him on the backseat. It was a quick ride, empty streets and turned off signals enabling them to make their way without stopping.   
Just once Ciri lifted her head as there was the bright sign of a fast food restaurant approaching, opening her mouth just to be cut off by her dad and a flat “We got food at home.”   
At least that made Eskel and Jaskier chuckle quietly. 

They stopped in front of a small house in a decent looking neighbourhood, with a short driveway and a garage big enough for two cars, two story building.   
Eskel turned around from the front seat, resting his arm on top of his seat, facing Ciri.   
“I’ll pick you guys up in the afternoon. I will text you when i get going. G’night.”   
There was a soft smile flickering over the mans face as Ciri leaned forward and kissed his cheek, saying her good night too, before she slipped out the door. Eskels eyes were just as intense as Geralt, Jaskier recognized just staring him in the face a moment too long.  
“No need to kiss me good night, but nice meeting you Jaskier.” Again, there was a wink that sent Jaskiers organs spinning in circles, making him feel almost nauseous as he struggeled for his voice not to be high pitched as fuck again.   
“Thanks for the ride. And good night, Sir.” That earned him a chuckle from the dark haired man as he turned to face the street again, leaving Jaskier to hurry out of the car and follow Ciri and Geralt to the door. 

“Good night.” was the only thing Geralt said, before disappearing into the darkness of the house, leaving Jaskier and Ciri to head upstairs. Halfway up the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Jaskier followed her.   
“It's not much, but it will do.” she announced, flicking on the light of her room - she was such a girl sometimes.  
The couch she pointed at was not made to be a bed but certainly looked inviting to take a long nap. There even was a neatly folded blanket and a pillow, just waiting for someone to fall asleep there.   
The black muscle shirt hit him in the face and he rolled his eyes, facing Ciri who was already taking her shirt off, changing it for another old band tee that he assumed all were originals from her dads younger years. He would ask about that another time. Right now, he was just ready to sleep. His phone died hours ago, but the last time he caught a glimpse of Ciris Lockscreen there was 3 involved.. And that must have been hours ago! 

So he changed his shirt, took of his boots and jeans and as soon as his head hit the pillows he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.   
> Feel free to add a comment for improvements!


End file.
